Maura Who?
by Becominglight
Summary: When Maura's adoptive parents can't make it to her and Jane's wedding, Maura yearns to find and connect with her birth mother but it may not be safe to do so…
1. The Coming Out

So I started writing this over a year ago, but for whatever reason it fell to the wayside. But I've decided to pick it back up and continue :). It's based after the episode where Maura's mum first appears (S2E3 Rebel Without a Pause) and then kinda ignores anything cannon from there on because that's when I started it. Also my previous fic 'Falling' although not referenced in this fic in any way, is the story of how Rizzles got together and this takes place after that, in my head anyway (gotta love head cannon!)

Description: When Maura's adoptive parents can't make it to her and Jane's wedding, Maura yearns to find and connect with her birth mother but it may not be safe to do so…

I'm posting the first two chapters because I figure people want a bit of Rizzles and that doesn't happen until chapter two :)

MAURA WHO?

CHAPTER ONE

It could not be said that Mr. and Mrs. Isles were happy to find out that their daughter was seeing a woman.

"Is that so, darling!" said Mrs. Isles in bright, clipped tones, lifting the fine bone china tea cup from its cradle and sipping. "You never let on."

"It took me by surprise too." Maura replied. She twisted the ring on her finger, feeling the cold sweat under her arms staining her sky-blue Louis Vouiton dress. She hoped they couldn't see it. They sat there, elegantly poised in their tailored clothes and she wondered if they were disgusted with her, if they would sit up in bed that night and wonder how they had adopted not just a peculiar girl but a lesbian no less.

She nibbled nervously on a biscuit.

Maura was at one of her parent's town houses in a quiet cul de sac in Chelsea, London, a breezy spring-time sun shining through large bay windows, illuminating the ivory walls and highlighting the fine embossed detailing along the crown moldings. The portrait of a long-dead English ancestor hung on a shaded wall, peering down at them with sever authority, as if monitoring the trio below. They were seated intimately around an elegant, neoclassic table from circa 1790, taking their tea before being driven to the latest exhibition at the Albert & Victoria Museum in South Kensington.

Maura had flown in from Boston late on the Friday night, upon the invitation of her parents to join them for the weekend. By jet it was a mere three hours away. It was now Sunday morning and she had been girding herself for the conversation ever since, having made the clear decision that it was time to let her parents know.

"So it's Jane, then, is it?" Mrs. Isles asked her accent sounding particularly English despite her decidedly American roots. She seemed to unconsciously adopt it when in London. "That would explain her over protective streak."

"I..."

"You're a lesbian." Her father cut in, peering intensely at her from behind his Ralph Lauren frames and Maura almost jumped in her seat. The way he was looking at her was disconcerting. His nose was always in a book, in a newspaper or staring at some vague point beyond as he ruminated over high-flying academic concepts that would interest only those who worked in his field. Upon Maura's news he had carefully folded and laid the 'The Independent' aside and laced his hands around his crossed legs in a pose that only the European man seemed able to pull off, but somehow, his lanky frame suited. It heightened the air of intelligence that was undeniably his. She felt like he was at this moment de-compartmentalising her like one of his philosophical riddles.

"What about Garette? He was such a nice boy…" her mother was saying

"He's in jail, Mother."

"That's not what I meant. You were so smitten with him, darling. I confess: je suis tres cofus*. Did something happen to cause this change of… heart?"

She smoothed the pencil skirt she was wearing unconsciously.

"I fell in love."

Constance Isles tittered nervously but stopped when she saw the pained look on her daughter's face.

"Please forgive me, darling. This comes as somewhat of a shock."

"Of course."

"I'm … we," she said turning to include her husband who still surveyed Maura, "are... Happy for you, if that is what you want."

"It is."

"Well!" Mrs. Isles exclaimed and trailed off.

An awkward silence fell across the table and they sipped their Earl Grey tea.

"Tell me about her." Mr. Isles finally said. He seemed to have processed whatever though he had been having. "What does she do?"

"Well, she's a Homicide detective for the Boston P.D. She's one of the best. Which is how we met."

"And her family?"

"Her Mother is managing the café at the polices station and is getting a qualification in organisational administration and her father is a plumber." She watched, letting that sit with them a moment.

"I've met Jane's Mother. She appears to be a good sort of person." Mrs. Isles said to her husband, the hesitant emphasis on the 'good'.

"She is a wonderful human being." Maura said firmly. Her mother arched her eyebrow a little.

"Is she still living with you, darling?"

"Yes."

"That is very generous of you to have her stay so long."

"I want her to stay. I like it."

"Oh."

It fell silent once more. Half an hour later they were on their way to the museum and the revelation was not mentioned again.

Please comment!

* Je suis tres confus is French for I am very confused.


	2. The Proposal

CHAPTER TWO

People tended to assume that Jane was the one who proposed but, actually, it was Maura. People always assumed because Jane Rizzoli was the one who, quite literally, wore the pants. And Jane was, after all, the one who preferred baseball to ballet, building forts to pink canopy beds, comfort to fashion and she walked with that certain swagger in her step. People simply assumed that she was the man of the couple and as people know, it falls to the man to perform such offices. What people seldom saw, or only did if they had the privilege of taking out the fiery Italian (which had been Maura's sole privilege for some time now) was how deeply feminine she could be. How the line of a dress could mysteriously transform her from the rough and tumble cop, into a woman of sensuality, of delicate emotion, of vulnerability. This vulnerability hinted at the deep sea of emotion that coursed beneath the tough image she cultivated. It was part of what fascinated Maura.

They had been a couple for nine months when Maura proposed. She liked the idea of nine months, it represented the gestation period of a child and there was a symmetry to taking the relationship to its next level that pleased her scientific mind. It was a numerologically significant number, a number to do with completion, a spiritual number made up of three lots of three and three was the number of divinity.

On a warm summer evening, as the shade was lengthening over the back yard of Maura's manicured lawn, they sat together on a lover's seat. A wooden trellis climbed the tumbled brick wall at the far end with English roses bursting in pink delight up its length and a youthful silk tree swayed hypnotically with the breeze sheltering a marble bird bath. They had been sat there long enough that a pair of sparrows had deemed it safe and were hopping along its rim before diving into the shallow water within. Maura's head was resting against the silky skin of Jane's collarbone, her legs draped across her lap, their fingers intertwined. She could hear the steady heartbeat of her lover pulsing, soothing, lilting in her ear. Through the open window, Angela, Tommy and Frankie Rizzoli were talking in the kitchen, their voices rising and falling in a quiet cadence that seemed to blend with the stirring of the breeze. The smell of dinner drifted on the air.

They had returned home a half an hour ago from a weekend trip away to Cape Cod, where they had hired a recently renovated cottage that faced directly onto miles of sandy white beach. They had arrived late on the Friday evening. The tang of the ocean had filled Maura's nostrils as she stepped out of the car and in the dim light of the moon, the waves could be seen lapping at the shore. She'd breathed it in, feeling the particles infuse themselves into her body. She'd wanted to run into the sea, to feel the caress of the water on her skin. So she turned to Jane and suggested a delightfully naughty skinny dip. Jane had grumbled, insisting they would be caught but had ultimately given in. Maura could be most persuasive. The cool particles of sand slid between their toes as they made their way to the shore, their hands clutching at the beach towels wrapped around their bodies. Maura had giggled as she dropped her's and gently disengaged Jane's sliding her hands over the shoulders, down the arms and gently take her hands and leading her into the water. Maura had savoured the feel of their slippery skin as they held each other, sharing salty kisses and she had wrapped her legs around Jane's torso.

They had turned their cell phones off and with no work to distract them they had had the rare luxury of turning their attention on each other. They had hired bikes and taken advantage of the miles of cycle track. They had visited a fish market and bought fish caught that very morning which had delighted Maura and she had rattled off the benefits of freshly caught fish. Jane had laughed at Maura's enthusiasm and kissed her. They'd eaten lunch at the village nearby and basked in the sun, swum in the ocean, walked along the tracks and watched the sunset. It had been simple and it had been wonderful.

Now they were home and they were sat quietly in the back yard savouring the last moments of the weekend as the sun set. Maura found her job as Chief Medical Examiner for the Boston PD satisfying and fulfilling. She loved the methodical, systematic science that helped bringing criminals to justice, she enjoyed the challenge of managing the medical examiners below her but tonight she loathed the though of returning to work because where she was right now was perfection. It was a novel and inspiring feeling.

She peered up at her lover. Jane's eyes were closed and her hand was making lazy circles on Maura's back.

"Jane?" she whispered.

"Mmmm?"

"I love you."

Jane smiled without opening her eyes.

"I love you too, babe."

"Jane?."

"Mmmm."

"Will you marry me?"

Eyes cracked open, peered down, questioning.

Maura sat back, perching herself on the edge of their swinging seat. She took Jane's hand in hers, sliding her thumbs across her stigmata scars.

"Jane. I love you. I love being with you. I can't imagine not waking next to you every day for the rest of my life and I don't want to. I want to spend the rest of my life making love with you, I want…"

"Maura! Shhhh" Jane glanced furtively to the open kitchen window.

"But I do!" she said earnestly. She paused to see how Jane was receiving the information. She noted the lowered eyes, the pink flush in her cheeks, the furrow in the brow and for a panicked moment, she though Jane was going to pull her hands away.

"You've contracted you procerus and frontalis muscles, Jane…"

"Really, Maura?" Jane said incredulously, but she was laughing. When her eyes rose, they were brimming with tears and the look of love took Maura's breath away.

"Yes, Maura," she said, "I will marry you."

Maura laughed and cupped Jane's face in both her hands. "Oh my sweet darling." She said and kissed her softly. Jane pulled her back into her lap, pressing their bodies together.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Jane jumped and almost sent Maura flying.

"Jeez, Frankie! Don't do that!"

"Hey! I'm not the one canoodling in a public place."

"Seriously? Does this look like a public place to you?"

Frankie laughed and slapped his sister playfully on the shoulder. "Come on you love birds, the burritos are ready."

He turned back into the house but just as Jane was about to stand up, Mara pulled on her hand.

"Wait, I have something for you."

Jane frowned. Maura stood and slid her hand into her pocket.

"I hope you don't mind if I had it made without consulting you…"

Clasped between her fingers she drew out a platinum ring with single princess cut diamonds embedded within. She sat back down, pulling up Jane's left hand and sliding it onto her finger.

"I know you don't like jewelry much, so I chose something simple and that wouldn't catch on anything..."

Jane sat looking at her finger. A tear fell from her eyelashes and she brushed it away, laughing.

"Look at what you've done to me, Maura, you've made me go all soft." She stood, Maura was pulled into her arms and held tightly, "Thank-you"

"Gee! Get a room!"

The pair parted to find Frankie leaning against the door frame.

"You guys coming?"

"Oh, be quiet, you." Jane said grinning like a fool and, grabbing Maura's hand, sauntered into the house.

They sat at the table like two co-conspirators. Neither of them said a word but Angela's suspicions were quickly roused.

"What's with you two?"

Maura saw her eyes dart surreptitiously to the table but Jane had hidden them on her lap. When Angela looked up though, she smiled so wide that Angela's eye lit up, the meaning caught.

"Oh, nothing, Ma." Jane was saying, unaware of the silent exchange and picked up her burrito with both hands.

There was a gasp. "Oh, Jane, Maura… Oh, she asked you!"

"She asked me…you asked my Ma's permission?" Jane whispered swinging around.

"Well your Dad isn't around, so of course I did, Jane."

Before Jane could pursue that, Angela was up and showering kisses all both of them.

"I expect grand-kids, you hear?"

"Ma… really!?"

"What's going on?" Tommy and Frankie were looking up from their food, confused until they spotted the ring on their sister's hand.

"Whoa, sis!" Tommy shouted abandoning his half eaten food to pull Jane into a bear hug, Frankie close behind pulling Maura up. Angela was grabbing Jane's hand to get a closer look.

"Oh, Maura, it's beautiful! It must have cost a fortune!"

"It only cost $22, 560."

"Maura!" Jane gasped turning around, "That's …"

"What? They say you should spend a month's salary on a ring."

"There is no way you earn that much in a month."

"Well – not with my job, but including all my investments and interest…"

"Oh Maura…" Angela seemed quite beside herself.

"Look at you landing yourself a Sugar Mama!" Tommy and Frankie were slapping Jane on her back.

xxx

Later that night, Jane rang her father. Things had been strange with him ever since her parent's had split. She'd seen him a handful of times and she missed him, because she'd always had a strong affinity with his quiet, strong ways. But something had ruptured in the break up.

He seemed pleased to hear from her and happy to hear her news.

"Of course, Pa, we'll meet for lunch sometime soon," she said as she hung up and looked forlornly at the phone for a moment.

"Why are you sad?" Maura asked, her head cocked on one side. She was sitting up in bed, a medical journal open before her, though she had actually been listening to Jane's conversation.

"Oh, I'm fine." Jane said. She slid into the bed and tucked herself against Maura. She checked her finger again, just to make sure the ring hadn't mysteriously disappeared.

"You shouldn't have spent that much, Maura."

"Why not? I wanted to."

"It's too much… what if I loose it?"

"Then the insurance will cover it. Don't you like it, Jane? Are you unhappy with it? I can always get another one made…"

"Oh no! It's beautiful perfect, I just… I've never had anything this expensive before. It's… I don't know." She shrugged. Then she collected herself and looked up, flashing a devilish smile and gently prized the journal from Maura's hand. Leaning across, she placed it on the night stand.

"I think," she purred, placing a few light kisses on Maura's collarbone, "That you are a little over dressed right now."

"Yes, I am." Maura replied, feeling the delightful thrill of anticipation radiate through her as a hand slid under her silk nightee.

"Perhaps I can help you with that."

"Yes, please," she sighed and the errant hand skimmed over her waist to cup her breast.

I'm not adverse to writing smut, so if you want it, let me know, otherwise on with the story!

Please review! :)


	3. Here be smut (you have been warned)

Well everyone who reviewed said yes to smut, so smut I have written.

Thanks to all of you who reviewed, it is always gratifying and encouraging!

This has clearly become an NC-17 fic. If you don't fancy reading smut, you can quite easily skip this chapter and it makes no difference to the story. I hope you enjoy :)

_xxx_

"_I think," she purred, placing a few light kisses on Maura's collarbone, "That you are a little over dressed right now."_

"_Yes, I am." Maura replied, feeling the delightful thrill of anticipation radiate through her as a hand slid under her silk nightee._

"_Perhaps I can help you with that."_

"_Yes, please," she sighed and the errant hand skimmed over her waist to cup her breast._

Jane's fingers pinched Maura's nipple, sending a warm wave throughout her body. She sighed and wrapped her arms around her fiance pulling her close, enjoying the feel of their bodies pressing together and the way Jane's breasts rested agains her ribcase though her loose cotton t-shirt, small and soft. It felt good. She slid a hand underneath the fabric and traced the muscles of her lover's back, watching Jane watching her. She drew her down for a kiss. Their lips met, soft, pliable, starting slowly, their warm, wet, mouths opening to each other. They took their time. With sighs, hands and lips, they caressed desire until they were alight with it.

They discarded their clothes carelessly one by one, they murmured and hummed softly as their skins melted together. Maura buried her face in Jane's neck and gently bit down, listening to her breath catch. Her hand skimmed over her lover's torso to her firm buttocks, pulling her closer so that their legs intermignled. Hips rocked lazily as they moved up and down. She tightening her hold. She felt the increasing beat of her heart, the goosbumps where Jane kissed her, the flutter in her stomach, the throbbing of her sex. She marveled at the woman she held in her arms who had arroused in her this need. Not just a physical need but an emotional one- to be close, to be loved, to make love. With other partners, she'd delighted in the act, physically craved it, explored it openly and sought it out to satisfy the body. She'd needed sex. But she'd always kept herself that little bit apart and she'd always been able to walk away. Now she shared something so much more real and connected that it humbled her and there were moments when she felt it so keenly, she thought she would burst from the wonder of it.

This woman. The woman who would be her wife.

Jane sat up, giving Maura an unimpeded view of her body. The smooth tanned skin, defined shoulders and arms, pert breasts with dusky nipples, the skin over her taunt stomach, rippling as she moved, encouraging Maura's eyes down to the trimmed curls between her legs that undulated backwards and forwards on her thigh. She loved the way Jane was watching her brazenly through hooded eyes, inviting her to look and admire, daring her to touch. So she obliged. She sat up and, licking her lips, brought them down on Jane's nipple. She sucked, feeling the hard tip and the delicious softness. She flicked the numb with her tongue, the hot rush of desire flooding between her legs at Jane's goans of pleasure. Jane rocked faster. Then her hand reached down, skimming over Maura's belly and slipped into her panties. Maura released the nipple with a crie as fingertips sliped between her folds and caressed the wet, pulsing numb therin. She leaned back onto her arms and arched backwards at the exquisite sensation. It sent waves radiating out, overwhelming all her senses until there remained only one though. She needed to feel Jane inside her. She opened her eyes and Jane was watching her, her eyes dialated, her parted lips swollen red, fiercly beautiful with her chocolate hair falling in cascades and the ends curling over her naked breasts. Their eyes locked for an electric moment, the air was crackling with promise and then Maura gasped as the rhythm changed. Like a switch had been flicked they moved from slow and sensual to hot and desperate. Their lips clashed and they were grasping and kneeding and stroking.

"Please..." she said and she needed say no more. Jane growled and flipped Maura onto her stomach. She spread her legs and plunging two fingers into Maura's throbing sex, pumped them in and out. . Jane moved up the length of Maura's body, her nipples grazing the length of her back with each stroke of her fingers and then she sliped her free hand under Maura's body to pinch her pink nipple. The sensations combined together and Maura saw the strands of her pleasure drawing together.

"More." she moaned and Jane obliged by inserted an extra finger.

"More." she said again.

She felt the fulness of Jane's four fingers as they slid in deep, right up to the knuckles and she burried her face in the pillow to muffle her escalating cries. She rocked her hips against the thrusts, reveling in the exquisite fullness, her pussy on fire, burning hot and fast.

"Oh God, oh God." she cried, her body alight, the strands twisting together, intertwining, rising up until she felt nothing but Jane inside her and her warm breath against her ear.

"Come for me, Maura" she murmured.

Then, with one final flick of her nipple, Maura, in a long, intense explosion of light, burst into a thousand falling stars. She collapsed and lay there, limp, catching her breath and feeling the thud of her heart.

"Wow." she said.

Jane chuckled, dropped a kiss on her shoulder and caressed her back.

Maura took a moment to collected herself and then turned towards Jane. With her hand she pushed her down, claiming her lips. Her hand slid up a silky thigh and she wasted no time in burying her fingers inside Jane's wet, wet pussy, curling them and stroking her. The reaction was instantaneous. Jane gasped, arched and opening her legs wider. She was so close, Maura could feel it. She kissed her way down Jane's body and settled between her legs. She lowered her mouth onto her clit, licking up the juices before taking the fleshy nub between her lips and flicking it with her tongue. Jane's hands were grasping at the bed covers, her breasts quivering with the heaving of her chest. Maura relished the cries that Jane was helpless to stop and with a couple more strokes, she was orgasming hard, the muscles clenching and releasing around Maura's fingers.

They murmured words of love as they moved into each other's arms , the dissapating heat of the ardor suspending them between wakefulness and dreaming. They drifted together in this place that was neither here nor there but was soft and welcoming and calm. They fell asleep.


	4. The Announcement

I know it's a bit Maura/Jane lite this chapter, but fear not, that will change as the story progresses.

PS reviews are so apprciated :)

Xxx

CHAPTER 3

Announcing the news to her parents was nerve wracking. She contemplated telling them over the phone but knew that etiquette demand she tell them in person. They were in Washington D.C. a few weeks later and she asked if she could join them for the weekend. They were a little surprised but agreed readily which found them dining at the restaurant 1789 on 36th Street that Saturday night. Usually Maura would have enjoyed the atmosphere; the fireplace, wooden paneling, the classical décor exuding warmth and comfort. Tonight, however, she wore a mildly panicked look and a nervous, twitchy smile. She talked more than usual as if it would save her from the looming announcement.

As their sommelier finished pouring them a Poire William digestif, Mr Isles looked pointedly at his child and said:

"Well out with it, Maura. You clearly have something on your mind and from the stricken look on your face, I'm beginning to think you are bankrupt and need our financial assistance."

"Oh no, Father, nothing like that. I… it's good news. At least I hope you'll see it as good news."

"Well?" Mrs Isles prompted when Maura failed to continue.

Maura felt her heart beating hard and was fighting the urge to hyperventilate. She took a sip of the Poire William liquor and felt it burn down her gullet. Her mouth felt suddenly parched.

"I'm getting married."

Her parents paused. They looked at each other.

"To…whom?" Mrs Isles asked delicately.

"Jane."

"Oh."

If Mrs Isles tried to hide the shadow falling across her face, she failed. She gave a thin lipped smile. Her father had sat back, crossed his arms and was watching her as he had when she'd announced her relationship all those months ago.

"Is that even legal?" asked Mrs Isles.

"It is in the state of Massachusetts."

"I see." She was sitting stiffly in her seat.

Maura waited for either of her parents to say something more, to break the god-awful silence that descended on them. It seemed to stretch like a gaping hole, she standing on one side and they on the other.

"It's a shock, Maura. I won't lie. This is not what I had hoped for you…" Mrs Isles finally said slowly, carefully.

Maura's heart squeezed in her chest. The response was crushingly predictable, but somehow she'd managed to believe it would be different. That the months since she'd come out to her would have magically transformed her views, that she could at least make an effort. Maura looked to her dad, hoping that he might say something to dislodge the lump lodged in her throat but he seemed distant – disinterested, almost. Maybe he thought, even now, of his research paper.

Maura knew her lachrymal glands would not hold the tears much longer.

"I have to go." She whispered across the chasm of their divide

"Where are you going?" she heard as she stood and turned to go but she didn't stop, zig zagging through the tables and out the door, taking gulps of air as she hailed a taxi. She managed to ask for the airport and, receding in the darkness of the backseat, she let the tears fall.

xxx

The house was pitch black when she arrived. Checking her watch, she saw that it was almost two in the morning. Weariness was steeling over her as she crossed the threshold and she ached for Jane's comforting embrace. She was pulling her cellphone out, pressing the speed dial when she spotted Jane's shoes strewn in the hall way. She picked them up and placed them neatly by the door. She crept to her bedroom and peered through the crack of her door. Underneath the duvet, she could see the shape of a body, the moonlight filtering through the windows, casting silver shadows.

Maura disrobed, carefully placing her garments over the corner chair. She did not bother to put on her pajamas but instead moved to the bed, her skin ghostly white, and looked at her wife-to-be. The way the chocolate hair, now jet black with the darkness, spilled in waves across her exposed shoulder, the way the arm curled around the pillow. She listened to Jane breathing. It was in such stillness that she felt how much she loved this woman. It was at times like these when there was no noise, no distractions, no demands on her time, when the world was reduced to grey-scale and when she could stand very still and just be. It was so simple and clear, nothing like the confused rush from the restaurant earlier, when the pull of lover and daughter, mingled with the rush of disappointment and longing had jostled around in her head. She knew she wanted to marry Jane but she also longed with uncharacteristic ferocity to please her parents, make them proud, gain their hard won nod of approval. The affection she yearned but didn't know how to ask for, she had used to motivate herself to excel in academia but what she really wanted was for them to tell her they were proud.

She could not deny there had been a brief moment as she sat in the taxi, the lights of Washington D.C. shimmering through her tears, when she had wondered if they were right and she was wrong. Not now, as she stood above the bed, watching Jane sleep. Jane was her constant. Her touchstone. She moved closer, letting her fingertips brush the exposed cheek, at which Jane stirred, her breathing shortening and her eyes opening a moment, two dark pools drinking in the naked form before her.

"You're home…" she murmured and held her hand up to draw Maura into the bed. Maura burrowed in, moulding herself against the Red Sox t-shirt and bare legs, and nuzzled the pulse point at her jaw line.

"Howdit go?" Jane asked

"Make love to me, Jane," she sighed, taking Jane's hand, pressing it into her hot center and fusing their mouths together. Sleepily, Jane responded, soothing the sadness and telling her that she was not alone in this universe. She melted into comfort of the arm that held, the lips that kissed and the hand that touched her. As Jane loved her, she was reminded that here it didn't matter what her parents though or how the world might disapprove of them because she was reminded that with this woman, she had found her home.


	5. The Wedding Dress

It was the tradition of wealthy families that the bride's family pay for the wedding. Though, of course, in this case there were two brides and Maura's had made no mention of helping. Neither of Jane's parents were in a position to give financial assistance and Jane's salary was modest, so it was Maura who offered to pay for the bulk of the wedding and in doing so, insisted on a wedding planner.

"It's a waste of money!"

"It's my money, I choose how to spend it!"

"It makes me uncomfortable."

"We don't have time with our jobs to organise everything! You'll thank me."

"Okay, fine, but nothing too fancy, Maura"

It seemed their definition of fancy varied somewhat.

"Do we really need orchid center pieces, Maura, really?"

"It's understated elegance."

"And bloody expensive!"

"Well what would you like?"

"Well do we need a center piece for each table?"

"Jane! It's a wedding!"

"Okay, okay! How about daffodils, seeing it's in springtime."

"The yellow will clash with the colour scheme and besides, it's not appropriate. There will be a lot of very wealthy people attending and although I don't need to have the most replete wedding, there are certain standards."

"So you'll have the wedding they want? If they don't care that we are two women getting hitched, they're hardly going to judge us on daffodils for a center piece. Cheap, easy to get-in-spring daffodils, might I add. Maura… don't look at me like that. I'm just saying that getting a dozen orchids center pieces is a lot more expensive."

"Actually thirty-three."

"Thirty-three!? Maura, we said a small wedding!"

"Well that is small. I'm not inviting half of the people I should."

"That's 240 guests…"

"246."

"Whatever. My point is that 246 is not a small wedding, it's a big wedding. It's a ridiculous amount of big. And if we invite that many then we may as well invite 500 because if we don't then the Rizzoli extended family will get pretty annoyed that they didn't' get a chance to gawk at the lesbian cousin and eat free food. And I seriously don't think I want to subject you to them. They makes me look refined in comparison. How about this. You get your orchid center pieces but we only have 15 tables, deal?"

"Twenty tables and you have yourself a deal."

"Eighteen."

"Deal"

"Hmmmm. You just gave in way too easy… why you smiling at me like that?"

"Because I love you."

"That's not why. You look like the cat that got the cream."

"Cats are lactose intolerant."

"Maura!"

"What?"

"Just…can we just finish figuring out the table settings before you Wedding Planner lady get's annoyed at us for not doing the little we need to do?"

"Her name is Lauren, Janie-baby."

"Don't call me that."

"Okay, Janie."

"Maura!"

"Yes, baby?"

"Come here."

With the help of Lauren, Maura managed to cajole and charm Jane into agreeing to an haut cuisine five course meal, a better venue, silver table settings, premium table linen, tasteful flower arrangements and conveniently forgot to mention the substantial increase in the cost. It would only occur to Jane on the day that their wedding may 'only' have 144 or so guests, but that this not a small wedding, it was rather grand indeed.

Xxx

On a snowy December morning, Constance and Maura Isles were standing in a designer bridal boutique in Milan, Italy, surrounded in billowing clouds of white dresses. A compact little assistant swirled around them displaying option upon option of off the rack wedding gowns, describing the various features in fluid Italian. The two women were pouring over them with studious intensity, discussing each gown in an excited mixture of English and French.

Maura had flown in on a jet plane organised by her mother after receiving a phone call offering to help her design a dress. Maura was touched. It was an olive branch after a shaky few months of stilted phone conversations, so with hopeful trepidation she joined her mother at the Ritz on the Saturday morning. Her mother had crooked her head on one side and greeted her, eyes scrutinizing as if trying to see if her daughter had transmuted into something altogether foreign now that she was engaged to a woman. When she asked about Jane, her face took on a pinched look, her voice became clipped and sharp and Maura felt her heart sink. It was awkward. Both were trying to reach a place where it was okay with the other but they were there for a reason linked to the very thing Mrs Isles was struggling with. They engaged in a tense little dance in which neither of them felt equal to addressing the situation but they both knew that it bubbled silently beneath the surface. Instead they spoke of anything else as they were driven to the boutique; of Mrs Isles' latest installations, of her guest speaking tour, of Maura's work, of Mr Isles and his current research paper. It wasn't until they found themselves looking at the dresses that the tension eased.

"I love this patterning on here with the diamante and the way it roushes on the side."

"Oh and the back on this one is simply delightful."

"That is gorgeous, Mother!" Maura exclaimed her eyes lighting up. She held up the gown and inspected it closely.

"Well, keep it in mind then for when we meet with the designer this afternoon. Now tell me, darling, what were you thinking. Straps, strapless, off the shoulder…? And what material would you like? Silk, satin, taffeta, …?"

When Maura tried on a selection, Mrs Isles shone with a sort of pride that Maura had never seen before. She felt buoyed by it. The conversation flowed over lunch as they talked in detail about what they had seen, what they felt would work best so that by the time they had their appointment with the designer, they were in perfect agreement as to what would suit Maura best. The designer made some excellent suggestion, sketching swiftly with her pen and Mrs Isles had squeezed her arm in delight.

After measurements were taken, the two of them spilled onto one of the many quaint little cobbled back roads of Milan and Maura felt emboldened to slip her arm into mothers who started a little but then clasped her tightly and they meandered arm in arm down the road with the no greater purpose than the enjoy the setting of the winter sun against the snow that had fallen fresh that morning. The air was crisp and puffs of white clouds fell from their lips, curling into each other and dissipating. Their feet crunched into the snow, leaving inch deep imprints of their boots. The sound of the traffic was muted against the whiteness, giving an odd sort of stillness to the dusk. It was unseasonably cold but Maura did not feel it and she hugged into the warmth of her mother. She was reminded of Christmas when her parents would whisk her away to their chalet in St Moritz. There had invariably been other families that the Isles were intimate with and much of the time was spent socialising with them which, given Maura's bookish tendencies, had often been unpleasant – it was not a given that just because their parents were friends, that she got along with their kids – but there had always been moments when it had been just them and she had relished those moments.

They had planned to attend the Opera later that night but it wasn't for a few hours yet, so they wandered through a series of streets and ended up along the Riviera. It was then that the pair stumbled across Baron and Baroness Longdale. They were short and stout, indistinguishable beneath their stylish winter coats, scarves and hat. It wasn't until they were almost upon each other that they were recognised.

"My dear Constance, is that you?" The Baroness said, drawing out the vowels of Mrs Isles' name in a pronounced Queen's English.

Maura felt her mother tense. They stopped and turned.

"Lydia! Brian! How are you?"

"Perfectly splendid. Brian is here on a spot of business and I decided to join him. We had no idea that you in town, Constance, you never mentioned a word at the committee last week! Are you here long?"

"Only for the weekend. I'm due in France on Tuesday. But allow me to introduce Maura, my daughter. Maura this is Baron and Baroness Longdale, we are acquainted through the Longdale Charity of which Lydia is president." She turned to present her daughter to the pair of curious eyes.

"Maura! I imagine you don't remember me but the last time I saw you, you were five years old and running around in your pink frilly tutu, insisting we take a look through the microscope at a bug you had found."

Maura was only half listening to the woman, she was transfixed with a mild sense of horror at skin that had been lifted, injected and filled until the woman's wide eyes looked like she was in a perpetual state of shock. Make-up was caked over the taunt skin, eyebrows penciled in and a bright lipstick pulled focus to the obscenely plump lips. She might have been in her early fifties or older, it was difficult to tell. The tone of her voice seemed to indicate that she found the anecdote charming though it could not have been deduced from her facial expression as she didn't' seem to have the ability to pull any. The husband sported similar markings of cosmetic surgery, although he had not gone to the same extremes as his wife. It made them a most peculiar looking pair.

"I admit I don't recollect… but it is pleasure to meet you, again." She said shaking their extended hands in turn.

"And what brings you to Milan with your mother? Surely not this cold weather!"

"We just came from a wedding dress fitting."

"A wedding dress! Oh, Constance! You never breathed a word about your daughter being engaged, you sly thing."

"Oh didn't I?" Mrs Isles sounded faint.

"There must be something in the air – did you know that Sarah Stanfield is engaged to Jean De Rouse and Lady Ramsden's daughter just became engaged to the billionaire, David Suttonfield? Can you imagine the scandal? David is divorced no more than a month and they make the announcement. No wonder he gave such a generous settlement to his ex-wife, he was clearly in a rush… and I suspect he wants to marry the girl," she said leaning in and lowering her voice, "because he is after the business contacts the family has. I hear he wants to expand his interests into Turkey and the Ramsden's are have long standing affiliations with those circle. But look at me, I digress! Who is the lucky man? Anyone I might know?"

"No. It's not anyone you would know." Mrs Isles said hastily.

"She's a Boston PD Homicide Detective." Maura added helpfully.

The Baroness' eyes, if it was possible, opened wider than they already were. "She...?"

Before Maura could utter anything further, Mrs Isles had gripped her by the arm.

"Lydia, Brain, my apologies but I had not noted the time. We are due for a dinner reservation in ten minutes, pray excuse us."

She walked off pulling Maura with her, the startled faces of the Longdales following in their wake.

"Insufferable woman," Mrs Isles muttered under her breath, "always poking her nose in where it doesn't belong."

Maura said nothing. The feeling of camaraderie was gone and it chilled her heart to the temperature of ice.

xxx

"Oh, Jane." Maura was sighing into her cellphone. "I wish you were here."

"I'm sorry, baby. I miss you too."

Maura was in her bedroom of the hotel suite, looking at the winking lights of the city from the armchair. She'd rung Jane shortly after they had got back in after a very quiet walk back to the hotel. Mrs Isles had said that she was feeling unwell and didn't think she was equal to going to the opera. She had gone to her room and had not emerged since.

"How's Bass?"

"He's fine. I think he's moved a meter or two since you left."

"Oh good, he needs the exercise. Did you give him some strawberries?"

"Yeah but he hasn't touched them."

"Oh I hope he isn't coming down with anything!"

"Only a case of missing-maura-itis. I have the same thing. Luckily I don't go off food when I get it because otherwise I'd fade away, what with you gallivanting around the planet to see your parents all the time…"

"Jane, I've been away three weekends in three months. I hardly think you'd 'fade away' in that time, regardless of how slim you are."

"Maura!" Jane huffed affectionately into the phone. "You're sooooo literal."

"But you love that about me."

"I love-hate it."

"You can't love-hate something."

"Of course you can. I love-hate captain crunch."

"You love-hate captain crunch?"

"Yeah. I love how it tastes and how deliciously crunchy it is but I hate how sickly I feel once I've eaten too much, which I always do because it's devilishly addictive."

"I feel that way about fudge-clusters."

"See? You can totally love-hate something."

"It's an unsatisfactory term. It uses antonyms to describe a vague state of emotion."

"You got a better term?"

"No, Jane I don't. But I could look it up. I imagine there is a word to describe exactly what you mean. Did you know that English has the larges vocabulary of any language in use today? It's mainly because English tends to appropriate words from other languages. Did you know that the word pajamas comes from colonial India?"

"Did you know that the word defenestrate means to throw out the window, which is what I'll do to myself if you don't stop talking google."

"I'm surprised you know that word. It's not commonly used."

"Yeah, well maybe I got bored today and opened the dictionary."

"Really, Jane?"

"No. Not really. Mum's just got a smartphone, you know for her organising and she downloaded an app that has a word of the day. She's driving me crazy trying to incorporate them into sentences. Now that seriously makes me want to defenestrate myself."

"I think that is wonderful!"

"What that I want to throw myself out a window?"

"No, Jane, that your mother is interested in expanding her vocabulary. The English language has over a million recognised words but that the average speaker only uses 15, 000?"

"Wow. I feel so enlightened right now."

"Jane…"

Jane laughed and they lapsed into a easy silence. Maura could hear Jane breathing rhythmically through the phone.

"You lying on my couch?"

"No. I'm in your bedroom. The sheets smell like you."

"I only left yesterday evening."

"Yeah, but it feel like you left forever ago."

"You'll sleep at my house Sunday so you'll be there when I get back?"

"Of course. Even if Ma drives me batty. She can't wait to see the sketch of the dress, you know. I think she's more excited about yours than mine."

"I think it's because she's not convinced you are going to wear a dress."

"Well normally I wouldn't but it's my wedding. I think I can make the effort."

"If you wanted to wear a pant suit – a tailored pant suit- I wouldn't mind in the least."

"What and have my Ma ashamed to sit at the bridal table because her daughter is too butch!"

"You're not butch, Jane. You're very feminine."

"Thanks."

A pause. Then tentatively:

"Jane?"

"Yes, baby?"

"Do you think that Mother is ashamed of me?"

"Because she hasn't told her society friends about us?"

"Yes."

"I think she's struggling with her hopes and dreams for you."

"What? That I'd marry a Garrett who comes from the right family but who kills when he goes bankrupt?"

"Well, you know, the whole white picket fence."

"Neither of our places have a white picket fences."

"Maura…" she admonished gently, "I imagine that the circles she moves in are still pretty conservative. Two women… wouldn't it be a bit scandalous?"

"What, that two consenting adults, who love each other want to declare their commitment officially and legally to the world?"

"Not everyone is as non-judgmental as you are, honey. Maybe you should talk to her about it."

"Maybe."

"'kay, well Maur, I gotta go, Jo Friday looks like she's about to pee all over your carpet if I don't take her out for a walk. Will you be okay?"

"I'll be fine. I think I'll meditate. Center myself."

"You do that, Bhudda Maura. I love you."

"I love you too."

xxx

She tried, perhaps a little halfheartedly, to talk with her mother about what had happened the day before but Mrs Isles didn't seem to want to. She cut her off swiftly, and changed the topic.


	6. The Big Day (Part 1)

Maura didn't see either of her parents again before the wedding. They had apologised that they could not be more involved with the preparations, but that Mrs Ilses' new installation was proving to be so popular that she had been begged to extend her tour. Mr Isles was due to hand in a research paper which was the culmination of five years work.

"Wow, we should be honoured they can come to their daughter's wedding at all!" Jane exclaimed when she heard the news. She regretted it immediately when she saw the pained look on her finance's face.

"Oh, Maur, I'm sorry, babe."

"It's not your fault. It's just bad timing…"

Jane refrained from saying that any time would have been bad timing.

But where Maura's parents failed to provide in preparation for the wedding, Angela Rizzoli made up for in spades. She gleefully made it her project. At first she'd been miffed that she had not been asked to manage the wedding – after all she was not only the bride's mother but a certified organiser – but had finally accepted that it was a significant undertaking that would have been too much with her job at the police station cafeteria. When she found out the budget for the wedding, her eyes lit up and she was frequently on the phone with Lauren who bore the demands of the interfering mother of the bride with great patience. Jane found it all too much and was frequently with in a breath of telling Angela to butt out but Maura would place a calming hand on the small of her back and remind her that they were lucky to have Angela's help. She was, in fact, useful. Always willing to provide a third opinion when Maura and Jane couldn't agree on something – which they often couldn't - although she frequently sided with Maura, much to Jane's chagrin. She willingly picked up errands that Maura and Jane couldn't do and in all honesty, felt just a little jealous that Jane's ma was so present, so loving, so approving even it had taken a while for her to accept her daughter's sexuality intially.

The wedding day took place in on the last Sunday of April. Boston was bursting with colours and the delicate smells of fresh blossoms and gently warming earth. They had hired a venue just outside of town with beautiful gardens overlooking a Lilly pond and an old brick Manor house perched on the crest of a hill, converted into a hotel and event venue. The grounds themselves were no more than five acres but were exquisitely landscaped to give the illusion of space, with small walkways leading toward an alter, erected under an impressive stone archway, overlooking the shimmering pond. The area were paved with large slabs of moss etched limestone rock and chairs had been set out to accommodate the guests either side of the carpeted isle. It evoked a sense of the old world, of a moment just outside of time, elegance and grandeur. It wasn't what Jane would have chosen but she had resigned herself early on to the fact that she was going to be uncomfortable no matter what and in spite of having the odd day dream of eloping in the middle of the night, she had steeled herself admirably throughout and had promised herself that she would grin and bear all the pomp and show a wedding demanded, even if she wanted to shrink away from all the eyes. For Maura, she would do this.

She hadn't seen Maura in almost two days because she'd been whisked away for a bachelorette party by her bridesmaids the night before last, followed by intensive spa treatments in reparation for the wedding. Jane hadn't cared to join – finding the memory of marinating in mud perfectly sufficient. Instead she'd had her own party with Frankie, Tommy, Korsak and Frost and they'd had a whale of a time. They'd gone out for a meal, followed by drinks at the Dirty Robber and it would seem that everyone from the precinct had been invited too because she was suddenly being slapped on the back, nudged and winked at by all the cops. She'd been shouted round after round and she'd managed to drink a few of the guys under the table before she, herself, could no longer remember what her name was. It would seem she remembered Maura's name and her winning characteristics sufficiently well, however, to give the guys at the precinct enough ammunition for a century.

She woke up in Frankie's apartment with a black moustache and a black eye drawn on her face and had freaked out at the thought of Maura's crestfallen face staring at her walking down the isle. After cursing her brothers out as they laughed at her, she had been relived to find it came off with a bit of elbow grease. She secretly planned revenge for after the honeymoon.

She was now standing in Angela's guest room looking at herself in the mirror. She didn't quite recognize the woman she saw there, the hair swept up into a loose chignon, a few stray whisps curling around her jaw, the smokey eyes, the stain of red on her glossed lips. Her skin looked luminous and she made a note to ask the make-up artist what she had used. The dress was tasteful simplicity. Strapless, the torso was patterned with roushed organza which then skimmed over her hips and fell softly to her feet, accentuating her slim, elegant figure. A demure split revealed a tanned leg. She would have been quite happy to marry in her sweat pants, but for once, she did not begrudge the dress. It was a dress of possibilities – a dress that laid a fresh start to her life, one in which she was no longer left alone to cope with the hard world in which she worked or suffer her nightmares alone. She would walk down the aisle in this dress, a single woman and come away a married to the most amazing person she had ever known. It made her stomach flutter.

Her mother pressed the bouquet of white roses into her hand and moved into to hook a pair of small tear drop diamond earrings.

"Something borrowed – from my Grand-ma."

"Thanks, Ma."

Angela smiled and cupped her daughter's face. "It's almost time."

Jane drew in a breath. "I'm nervous!"

"Me too!"

She was going to pull Jane out through to the adjoining bedroom where her groomsmen awaited but there was a knock at the door.

"That will be Pa."

Angela went to the door.

"Hello, Angela. You look well."

"Frank." She looked at her watch. "You're cutting it a little close, don't you think?"

"Don't start Angela. I'm here for my daughter."

Angela turned around. "I'll see you after the wedding." She moved over to her daughter and hugged her tight. "You look stunning, Janey."

"Ma… don't call me Janey."

"Oh, shush." Angela said looking as if she would start crying any moment. Then she picked up her clutch and exited.

Frank waited until she had gone and stepped forward. He looked at his daughter from across the room and smiled, he eyes crinkling at the edges.

"You look… stunning, Janey."

"Thanks, Pa. You look quite handsome yourself."

He was dressed in a snappy grey suit, with an understated silk tie. He shoes were shined, his hands scrubbed clean, shaved and hair cut. He looked dapper. From his suit pocket, he drew small box.

"I wanted to give this to you when you told me you were engaged – but we haven't seen each other apart for the wedding rehearsal and we didn't really get a moment…"

"Yeah, I'm sorry, Dad, it's been…"

"No, that's fine," he said gruffly, "You've been busy and I've been busy…"

He came forward waving the box about as if to displace the uncomfortable moment and placed it in her hand. From up close, Jane could see that underneath his smile, there was a font of sadness. He looked tired and worn down and she felt a pang of guilt for not making more of an effort to see him so she looked down and examined the old, leather of the box, worn down and scuffed off the edges. It had an old fashioned gold clasp on the side that she popped open and pulled the lid up. Inside it lay a ring. It was a narrow yellow gold band upon which a generous oval shaped sapphire was mounted, surrounded by a series of small diamonds. It shone quietly up at her.

"Wow, Pa…"

"It was my Mother's. She wanted you to have it, left if for me to give you… even though you were never into jewellery. And I thought that maybe you would want to give it to Maura, you know, as an engagement ring, but I'm sure you've figured something out now. So maybe you can use that to be your something blue for today…"

"Thank-you." Jane said. She slipped the ring onto her right hand ring finger and then leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek.

"Thank-you." She said again

"Yeah, well. I'm sorry I couldn't help with paying for the wedding…"

"Pa, really it's fine. As you can see," she said gesturing to the grandness of the room, "that we were able to afford a rather luxurious wedding."

"Yeah. Hired the suit special when I saw the pictures."

"We better go, I don't want to keep Maura waiting at the altar…"

"Of course."

He watched her as she turned towards the door that led into the adjoining room.

"Janey?"

"Yeah, Pop?"

"I know we never really talked about… you know, her being a girl, but I want you to know that it doesn't change anything for me…You're my daughter and I love you. And I couldn't be more proud."

Jane smiled.

"Thanks, Pop."

In the other room they found her men of honour all standing proud and straight in their black and white suits.

"Right, I have a beautiful woman waiting for me, so let's go before she changes her mind." She said a little briskly before anyone could make some awkward comment about her dress. It didn't stop Korsak, however.

"Wow, Jane, you look h…!" he started. Frankie Snr, Frankie Jnr, Tommy and Frost all turned to give him a look before he could finish.

"What?"

"Thank-you, Korsak, now don't ever think anything like that again." Jane said, picking up her dress and marching to the door.

"God, Jane, I hope you remember how to walk properly in that dress, I don't think Maura would appreciate if you came down the aisle like that!" Frankie Jnr called after her.

"Oh, shut-up!"


	7. The Big Day (Part 2)

The sun was warm and the sky clear apart from a few stray clouds. Maura was standing in a hidden corner of the grounds, nervously fussing with her dress. Her bridesmaids were scattered around her in their fresh, light green satin dresses and ivory sash, chatting excitedly. Louisa, her dearest friend from college was up on her tippy toes fixing the gardenia in her hair, the tip of her tongue poking from between her teeth in concentration.

"There," she said and took a step back, "perfect."

Maura smiled. "What's the time?"

Louisa glanced at her watch and grimaced. Her parents should have been here long before now. Their plane had been due to land four hours before the ceremony and they should have been able to make it to the venue with at least an hour to spare. Her calls were going straight to voice mail.

Just then Lauren came breezing through, all efficiency and style, a walkie-talkie in one hand, a clipboard in the other and an eager assistant trailing behind.

"You look stunning, Maura," she effused warmly. "Now where is your father?"

Maura shook her head and shrugged her shoulders.

"Right, well. We can't delay the ceremony for more than another ten minutes. We need to sort out a plan B. Who else can take his place?"

"Oh… I hadn't though…I don't know.' She said blinking wide. 'I mean, he should be here, shouldn't he, it's so important he should be here and he's not and I don't know why…"

"Shhh," Lauren said. "Look at me, Maura. Good. Okay, now it's all fine, take a breath." She said and breathed deeply to encouraged Maura to do the same, "There is always a solution to a problem. Who else?"

"Korsak, I guess...but he's one of Jane's men of honour…"

"He's just been reassigned."

She turned to her assistant who was sent scampering off into the shaded path that lead to the altar. Lauren put a warm hand on her shoulder.

"Everything is going beautifully, don't worry." and she was off, breezing down the path too.

"You okay?" Louisa asked, slipping an arm around her waist and squeezing.

"I thought they'd be here." She said quietly

"They've probably been held up with the plans or at customs and haven't been able to get a message through."

"Probably. Will you try them again for me?"

"Of course."

Five minutes later Korsak came, all smiles and willingness and gave her his arm. She slipped in beside him and felt the churning of her stomach settle a little. Her bridesmaids picked up the hem of her dress so that it didn't stain on the grass, and as one, they moved towards the altar, the bright scent of flowers, grass and earth full with the promise of new beginnings. They emerged under the blossoming cherry trees onto the carpeted aisle. There before her sat all the people she and Jane held dearest. All kitted out in their finery, hats and parisoles, bow ties and dinner jackets, waiting for her and Jane to declare their love. The murmurs of their voices washed over her anchoring her to the moment.

Lauren caught her eye and she signaled that she was ready. As she stepped from under the cherry blossoms, from the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a flash of blue by the tree line. Her skin prickled. She turned her head but saw nothing. Then the string quartet began plucking the first strains of J.S Bach's Ave Maria and she gave the moment no further though. Korsak patted her hand and asked if she was ready. She took a breath, closed her eyes and thought of what she was about to do. She opened her eyes and began to walk down the aisle.

Xxx

Jane couldn't see Maura but she could hear the notes of the song drift between the trees. She was pacing backwards and forwards, clutching the green and white rose bouquet in her hand. When Lauren had apologetically stolen Korsak away, she had considered damning tradition and going to find her fiance but Frankie Jnr had pre-empted the thought and laid a steadying hand on her shoulder. He'd pulled out his cellphone instead but Maura had switched hers off.

Her father now gave her his arm. They moved towards the rows of chairs and the guests all turned to her. Her heart was thudding uncomfortably, a mixture of self-consciousness, excitement and trepidation. She kept her eyes forwards, ignoring the murmurs rippling through the crowd, she looked, instead, at Maura who stood now at the altar.

Her golden hair was half up, half down, soft ringlets falling gently down her back, the rest twisted up. The dress was exquisite, a v-neck halter top and sparingly adorned with a pattern of gems across the breasts. The taffeta skirt fell down in waves. The back plunged low and then had three pearl buttons at the small of the back. It was sophisticated and sexy. Jane looked to Maura's face searching it for signs of worry or sadness and a grin spread across her face in response to Maura's glowing face. As she arrived, she kissed her father, then gave her bouquet to Frankie Jnr and slipped her hands into Maura's.

"You okay?" she whispered

"I'm fine, Jane."

The ceremony was simple and short. They exchanged vows they had written themselves, Jane's voice softened with trembling and despite her best efforts, the tears did fall and Maura wiped them away with her fingertips. Their words were simple. They spoke of love, understanding and sharing. Of joy and gratitude. They promised honesty, communication and presence. They exchanged rings and when they kissed, Jane slid her arms around Maura's waist and pulled her close, much to the delight of the cops scattered throughout the guests who shouted and clapped. She gamely scowled at them.

They were then whisked away for photos and by the time they were done the sun was setting. The rest of the bridal party had already joined the guests for the reception and the photographer had taken his last few shots of them silhouetted against the sky. They found themselves alone for a moment and Maura stepped into Jane's arms.

"My love." she said.

"No one has ever looked as beautiful as you." murmured Jane. She pulled off her grand-mother's ring and slid it onto Maura's finger next to her wedding ring, shushing any protests.

"It's made for you." she said and it was. It fit perfectly and seemed to shine more brightly against the pale skin of her middle finger and as Maura gazed down at it, she looked like she wanted to speak but couldn't.

"Maura speechless. Now that's a first!". They both laughed but Jane knew how much receiving a family heirloom meant to her.

They were walking bare feet over the grass towards the reception and enjoyed the feel of the cool grass against their skin. As they rounded the corner, all the guests were gathered outside, champagne in hand and there in a cage sat two white doves.

"What's this….?" Jane asked. Cautiously.

"It's a little something I organised." Maura said reaching for her hand and pulling her along, "I did some research on Italian wedding traditions and liked this one."

"You'll have to enlighten me on this tradition, Maur."

"Well, the releasing of these doves symbolize the love that we have for each other."

"Of course." She said drily, "how could I not know."

"You don't like it?"

"No, honey, I think it's very sweet and romantic. And I'm glad you didn't go for the cutting of a log with a two handed saw instead."

"It was my second choice." Maura said, her dimple showing.

Bathed in the pinks and oranges of the days end, Maura and Jane each gently held a dove in their hands. Side by side they stood and together they released them. A beating of wings and they were gone, disappearing together into the distance. The guests clapped and a chorus of 'kiss the bride' erupted.

"Now, this tradition I do know," Jane said with a wicked twinkle in her eye. She scooped Maura into her arms and dipping her low and kissed her passionately.


	8. The Big Day (Part 3)

It's been a while! I've actually had this sitting here for quite a while but didn't feel motivated to proof read it!

FYI...Reviews definitely motivate me :)

xxx

The food was eaten, toasts made and everyone was plied with enough alcohol to create a happy buzz. It was time for the first dance with the fathers of the brides and Maura had been glancing at the door every few minutes. As they had sat down for dinner, Louisa had shown her a message from her mother saying the plane had been delayed in Paris due a technical problem which had put them back by some hours but that they had now landed and were on their way. It eased the tightness in Maura's chest a little, for she had begun to tick through all logical explanations and had fixated on the one where her parents hadn't shown because they disapproved so strongly of the marriage.

She felt Jane's hand squeeze hers from under the table, felt the lips of her wife brush against her cheek and murmur reassurances in her ear and she squeezed back, her eyes not leaving the entrance. They delayed the first dance as long as they could, until Lauren sidled up and said that had to start, so reluctantly Maura rose and took Korsak's hand. They were about to step onto the dance floor when she saw them enter. She ran towards her father and flung her arms around him.

'You came, daddy.'

To the crooning tones of Louis Armstrong's 'What a Wonderful World' the brides danced with their fathers. As the song finished Mr Isles kissed his daughter on the cheek and told her he was proud before placing her hand in Jane's. He congratulated them both and retreated to join his wife. The music had started again and everyone flooded onto the dance floor. Jane had pulled her close and twirled her about and with the bodies pressing in on them, she could only catch a glimpse of her mother who had sat in a corner, her face pinched and cold.

It wasn't long before both Maura and Jane were being requested for dances and Mrs Rizzoli was there, thrusting la borsa at all the men and chiding them for not paying for the privilege until Maura heard Jane hissed that if she didn't want to be kicked out of the reception she'd better give up on this particular tradition. Maura found herself accosted by Giovanni who breathed his beer breath all over her and insisted he give her a kiss for good luck but instead of going for a chaste peck on the cheek, he seemed intent on landing her a big fat one on the lips. To her immense relief Jane stepped in before he could carry through his intention and the fierce look in her eyes must have worked because he threw his hands up in surrender and went to claim another beer.

At the end of the song, Maura decided dancing was becoming too hazardous when a rotund, belching middle aged man she didn't know asked to step in. She had no more excuses. She made her way over to her mother. The walk between the tables seemed to take an age and she felt strangely like a naughty cub with her tail between her legs, about to be peared down to size by her elder. She stood there and fingered her wedding gown. What she wanted to say was that they were late and that her father wasn't been there to give her away, but she didn't, she was afraid she would whine the way she had when she was little. Her mother had always hated that. She waited.

'You look divine, darling.' Her mother said, glancing to her, 'I see you kept to the original design.'

'I did.'

'The back looks splendid and I compliment you on your choice of hair style, works beautifully with the dress.'

'Thank-you.'

'And the venue, you've chosen very well. Did you organise everything yourself?'

'We had a wedding planner. Jane and I are frequently busy with work.'

'Yes, quite.'

The mention of Jane seemed to dry up any further conversation.

Then, 'can I get you something to drink? Or perhaps I can ask for some food to be brought out for you? You missed dinner.'

'No, darling, I'm quite alright. Your father has gone to fetch me some champagne.'

That seemed to be that. Maura wanted to ask if their encounter with the Baron and Baroness of Longsdale was why she was so stiff and distant now. Had things been said in certain circles, was she now whispered about behind her back because of her? She'd felt as though they were finding a way to each other on that trip and yet, here they stood, like strangers and it broke her heart.

Maura was about to leave when Jane sidled up behind her and slipped her arms around her waist. She noted her mother taking it in and felt a flutter in her stomach.

'Hey baby, the moment you left I was pounced on by every Tom, Dick and Harry. I think it's safer here, with you. Hi Mrs Isles. I'm so glad you made it.' Jane's eyes glinted dangerously.

'This is important to my daughter, of course I am here.'

'Weddings usually are.'

'Yes, well…'

'Are you going to dance?'

'Oh, I don't know. I don't think Brian cares to and I'm quite fatigued by the trip.'

'I'd be happy to dance with you.'

Mrs Isles smoothed dress.

'Oh no, I don't think so.'

'Why? Because I'm a woman?'

Maura gently squeezed the hands resting on her stomach in warning.

'It's not exactly traditional.'

'I think we can safely say that this wedding is not about being traditional, don't you agree, Maura…'

Maura could see this talk quickly degrading into a heated argument, so she

turned in Jane's arms.

'Jane, honey, can you get me a drink? Red wine?'

Jane nodded and then glancing to Mrs Isles, cupped Maura's face and kissed her. Her mother looked pointedly away her lips pursed.

'I'll be right back, baby,' Jane said and moved off.

Maura murmured a sorry but her mother didn't respond so after a moment, she left, dangerously close to tears.

xxx

They had cut the cake, thrown the bouquet and smashed a vase for good luck before they made their exit under a shower of rice. They entered the vintage rolls Royce and waved to the guests as they took off down the drive way. They had opted to take a hotel closer to the airport as they had a flight mid morning and had no intention of being up early. They had agreed on a honeymoon in Mauricious at the Maradiva Resort and Spa. Jane had been reluctant at first, resorts with 24hr butlers sounded a little too high-brow for her but Maura could be incredibly persuasive and the opportunity to try scuba diving did appeal. They had booked the beach front honeymoon villa for two weeks.

As they sat back for the ride to the hotel, Jane knew that Maura was not thinking about the honeymoon. She knew she was thinking of her mother excusing herself shortly after the cutting of the cake.

'Hey, sweetheart. Don't dwell on that.'

Maura looked out the window at the stars in the sky.

'You shouldn't have done that.' She said softly

'Done what?'

'You antagonized her, Jane.'

'I antagonized her?'

'You were rude.'

'I was rude? Maur, she was rude! Her nose was scrunched up like she smelt something off the entire time she was there. She didn't make the effort to talk to anyone, she didn't even congratulate us on our marriage. Did she even apologise for not being there?'

'You bated her, knowing she is sensitive about my marrying a woman. She came, Jane. I wasn't even sure that she would.'

'That's exactly my point! You didn't even know if she would bother to turn up! Don't think I didn't notice how you'd go quiet every time we talked about your parents leading up to the wedding. I hate seeing her hurt you like this.'

'That doesn't give you the right...'

'Then what am I supposed to do? Let her treat you like this? ' Jane exclaimed.

'Yes.'

Jane opened her mouth, ready to allowed all the anger, fear and disappointment she felt on Maura's behalf to churn forth but instead she moved away to the other window and quelled her fiery Italian blood. Silence rode with them in the dark. Jane took some measured breaths and clenched a fist on her knee, trying to gain perspective, fighting the urge to snap a nasty reply.

'I'm sorry, Maur,' Jane said eventually, quietly, 'I should have been more sensitive. I hope I didn't ruin today for you.'

Maura turned to see her, her back pushed into the far corner of the seat, her white gown now glowing dully in the grey scale of night, her earrings catching the errant strands of light as they re-entered the perimeters of the city.

'Apology accepted. And no you didn't, Jane.' She slid her hand across the leather seat, holding it out, 'today has been beautiful. Let's not fight. It's our wedding day.'

Jane slid her hand across the divide and moved in closer, entwining their hands together.

'No. Let's not fight.'

They were soon at the hotel and Maura thought no more of her mother. She thought only of Jane.

They had made love many times before, but somehow, tonight, it felt like the first time. They were shy. Maura felt a warm flutter in her abdomen as Jane unbuttoned her dress slowly, allowing it to fall to the floor in the middle of the honeymoon suit. Jane took her hand and Maura stepped out in her white lace undergarments.

"Oh Maura." she hummed with approval. She took in the pink of Maura's nipples pressing against the lace, the pale smooth skin that curved out at the hips, the satin garters that held up her thigh highs and where her panties should be – none.

Maura could see the dilation in Jane's pupils. She blushed, feeling the heat flush her cheeks as she stood there. Jane moved in close, but not quite touching, her lips tantalizingly near, their eyes locked and Maura slowly undid her dress and allowed it to fall to the floor too. She took Jane's hand and pulled her towards the bed and sat her down at the end. She traced the red satin of Jane's bra with her finger tips, skimming over the breasts as she straddled her wife and brought their lips together. Their kiss deepened and Jane's her fingers tracing her spine and cupped her bottom, leaving goose bumps in its wake. Any sadness and hurt from their words before, from her parents, melt away with each loving caress, with each sigh, each kiss.

She murmured words of love against the hollow of Jane's neck and loosened the chocolate hair so she could run her hands through it. She moved down the body tracing the silk of her skin, her lips seeking out those sweet secret spots then pulling down the material of her bra to suck on one nipple then the other. She moved further down the stomach and Jane lifted her hips so she could slip the panties off. Her legs fell open and Maura could see how slick she was, could smell her and too impatient to wait, she dipped her head and tasted her wife. Slowly, she traced the tip of her tongue up, dipping in further to stroke the clit, making Jane gasp and her hips rise, her hand snaking around Maura's head and a leg lifting to rest on her shoulder. When Maura looked up, she could see Jane's arched back, her head thrown back as she moaned her approval. She dipped her tongue into the opening and Jane bucked. She did it again, thrusting deeper and Jane whimpered and the hand at the back of her neck fisted. Maura slid a couple of fingers in and stroked her as she continued to lick and she knew Jane wouldn't last long like this. She wanted it to last though. As the crescendo began to build, she pulled her fingers out and Jane growled but not for long as she watched Maura remove her bra and let it fall revealing her firm breasts and hard nipples. She was left in only her garters and pumps. She climbed onto Jane and pushed her down, lowering their pussies together, rocking, feeling the skin on skin and the friction of each thrust, Maura's nipples skimming the swell of Jane's breasts as a delicious sensation moved throughout her body. Their rhythm started slow and built, their breaths came jagged and hot, watching each other with their bedroom eyes, giving over to their desires. They clung to each other, their lips captured in a slow counter rhythm to their thrusts, their tongues tasting each other hot, slow, deep, building, building building... Jane looked completely undone lying beneath her. And just as it was beginning to built to the point of no return, Jane flipped her under.

"My turn, I think." she said, holding Maura's arms above her head with one hand and snaking the other to bury itself inside her. Maura gasped. She could feel how wet she and she wrapped her legs around Jane's waist to give her deeper access. It felt like heaven. Each thrust tightened the coiled tension in the pit of her stomach. When Jane took a nipple in her mouth she mewled. She gave over entirely to the sensation feeling wild, sexy, wanton and so so close. Then Jane flicked her clit with her thumb while deep inside and unexpectedly she orgasmed, her muscles clenching around the fingers and she cried out long and hard as the waves pulsed through her.

When it subsided, she lay there quietly drifting, Jane's arms warm and strong around her. She felt safe. She felt like she belonged. She'd never felt that way with anyone but Jane.

When she'd recovered enough, she turned her attention to pleasing her wife and later she watched Jane's chest rise and fall in the darkness of their hotel suit, the lights of the city dancing in the background like tiny diamonds. With her middle finger, she traced the shadows of light and dark that played on Jane's skin and she reflected on their day.

'Do you think that parents are the only people who can love you unconditionally? she asked softly.


End file.
